A Tribute
by Falling Phoenix
Summary: Years after the war is over, Harry experiences an instance of reminiscence in the loss of a close friend.


**Disclaimer: I do not own or affiliate myself with Harry Potter. The story and characters belong solely to JK Rowling, even though WB tries to control it a lot of the time.**

**Summer is a beautiful time. Change is in the air. Peace be with you.  
**

**A Tribute**

**by FallingPhoenix**

"Out of the wild, assuming that it is well cared for, fed and monitored in a stable environment, the average snowy owl's life expectancy could well exceed thirty years."

"She was only sixteen."

Harry Potter ruffled his hands through his famously unkempt black hair in frustration, glancing across the table at his wife and two best friends, who were gazing sympathetically back at him. Hermione Weasley shut the book from which she had been reading and reached out a hand to Harry across the table.

"Yes, that's true, but I think we can both agree that she hardly lived in a _stable_ environment for most of her life," she said.

"Or any of us, for that matter," interjected Ron from her side.

"Regardless of the circumstance or fairness of how it happens, it's always sad when a pet dies," Hermione added gently. "When Crookshanks died, I was heartbroken."

"This is different. She was more than just a pet. She's just…" Harry struggled for words. He looked across the table to Ginny who had remained quiet so far, silently asking her for guidance.

"Always been there?" she provided softly.

He smiled with his eyes. "Yes."

Hermione looked slightly tired as she said "We understand. It's hard." She stood. "Well, I'm sorry but it is late. We'll be back first thing in the morning for the burial. Again, I'm so sorry, Harry."

Ron and Hermione took turns hugging Harry and Ginny, then Disapparated home. When they had gone, Ginny glanced at her mourning husband. Of course she understood how he was feeling. Hermione was right, it was hard to lose a devoted friend. But she didn't know why he was taking it quite this hard. It was best to just let him think it out for now. She knew she could talk to him later when he was a little less emotional.

An hour later, Harry climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around Ginny, holding her close.

"Mm…" she mumbled, half asleep. "How're you doing?"

For answer, he breathed out a sigh into her neck, which his face was snuggled against. "I'm… fine," he managed after a moment.

Ginny turned in his arms so she was facing him and propped herself up on an elbow. "Harry," she said slowly, trying to look in his eyes, though he was determinedly not meeting her gaze, trying to look unaffected.

When she didn't continue and he remained silent and closed, she sighed. Turning away from him now and reaching for a book on the bedside table, she said distantly "after all this time and you still can't be honest with me." She put on her reading glasses and opened her book to the marked page, determined to seem as calm and uninterested as he did.

Harry looked slightly shocked. "I am being honest," he said.

Ginny put down her book and turned to face Harry. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you're not really hurting about Hedwig," she challenged him. "I know you, Harry," she continued. "Better than you do sometimes, I think."

Gazing into her piercing brown eyes that had looked at him honestly so often in the twelve years since they had met, Harry knew she was right. He was hiding his feelings again, pretending everything was alright as he had done habitually before to protect her from greater discomforts. But who was he protecting now? The war was over, there was no crushing news or dangerous encounter to face that he needed to keep from her just a little longer to stop her from worrying. She was right there, and she could help him with these feelings and troubles so easily if he would just open up to her.

"Yes," he managed, feeling incredible stupid. He struggled for more words, something to describe what he was feeling without sounding too worried or silly. He came up with "I am."

Ginny stared at him. He couldn't tell what she was thinking; her face was blank, unreadable. The silence between them grew as neither of them spoke. They simply stared into each others eyes for a full minute.

Finally Ginny blinked several times, and looked down. "You are," she said. When she looked back up at him, there was a shining look in her eyes. "Harry, I know you are. I'm just glad you said it yourself."

Harry didn't know what to say. She sounded as though she were genuinely proud of him for saying three little words. It hadn't been so hard, after all. He sensed that this was the slow beginning of a new part of him, a part where he did not have to be afraid about being honest.

A part without Hedwig.

As the remembrance of that day's events came rushing back to him, he felt a new pang. Hedwig was really gone. He knew that, and yet he was still half expecting her to come to the window to see if he had a letter for her to deliver before going hunting for the night, as had been her tradition. She had been there with him from the very first day he found out who he was, along with Hagrid, and since Hagrid had died years before, she had been his only original confidante. He had relied on her, trusted her and loved her. Just the loss of having something so familiar disappear was bad enough, but she had been a part of the family. Without realizing it, tears began to form in Harry's eyes. He didn't try to stop them, letting them fall, Ginny holding him. They lay together in peaceful mourning until they both fell asleep.

The sun rose to a sad scene. Four young adults stood gathered around a freshly dug mound of earth, sharing emotions and memories together in the early morning light. They spoke about flying, catching spiders, mail, stormy weather and feathers. They remembered war, kind giants, coded messages, danger and a time of deception.

Then they were silent. Together they said goodbye to an old friend who had been with them through everything, through all the changes and fights and victories.

Eventually three went inside. One remained behind to add a final tribute because he had loved her the most. Even when he didn't always show it, he had appreciated her to the end, he told her. He loved her and would miss her and, of course, always remember her.

The man shed one final tear for his departed ally, then slowly turned to join his family inside.

Author's note: Please feel free to comment on this piece. I came up with the idea for the story several months ago but then my life got crazy and I only just now got around to messing with it. Thanks!


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